Fight Club
by jacklavigne
Summary: What happens when a conventional woman with anger issues and insomnia meets a very unconventional woman with a smart mouth and a lot of time on her hands? Fight club, of course.
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: Why, hello again. Why, yes, I do realize that I have seven other stories that I am yet to finish and a lot of frustrated readers on my hands, and I know I'm slightly crazy for starting a new story, but I am a little insane, so sue me. I do sincerely apologise for my lack of updates on other stories, but like I've said before, once I get a new idea in my head, I just can't write anything else until I put it down. BUT, I am good at multi-tasking, so I will continue to update chapters for most of my stories, though, some of them have been put temporarily on hold, due to writers block for those stories (Better than Paris, Girl, Interrupted and Times Up) But, hopefully I'll be able to finish some of my newer pieces and get back to working on those stories soon. Again, sorry for starting another story, but I figure that we've got another two months to wait for season three of OITNB, so, at least there will be new stuff for everyone to read until June. Not to mention a whole twelve more months until season four, after that, and all these stories will hopefully help tide everyone over for the long wait ahead of us. _

_This story is based on the book and movie, Fight Club, so the idea does __**not **__belong to me, just like most of the characters also do not belong to me, they belong to Jenji Kohan, the creator of OITNB. This story will be quite similar to the book and movie, just like my story, Girl, Interrupted, which is also based off a book/movie, but there will be changes to the story, etc, etc. If you haven't read or seen Fight Club, I suggest that you do, because it is a brilliant movie, one of my favourites, and it will kind of, hopefully, blow your mind. _

_I have rated this story M for extreme violence, so if you're not okay with that, I suggest that you don't read this. It's also rated M for bad, bad language and great, great sex scenes. _

_I hope that you enjoy the first chapter and the many to come after. I will hopefully have this and some of my other stories updated by the end of next week. _

_Thank you!_

**Fight Club**

**Chapter One**

You're bored.

What's worse is that you're bored _and_ you can't sleep.

A year ago, life was perfect; you had a loving boyfriend, a great job and the perfect apartment, but it wasn't enough. As the months passed, you found your boyfriend becoming a little bit too predictable and your job grew repetitive and when you came home at the end of the day, your little apartment looked too much like a page out of a magazine. As these thoughts buried themselves deeper into your head, you began to sleep less and less, until you weren't sleeping at all. Sometimes you'd think you were asleep, but it would turn out that it was just dark and you had spent hours just staring at the black ceiling of your bedroom.

You're worried that you're beginning to go a little bit crazy.

The days have started blurring together and it's the same shit every fucking day. You wake up in the morning, make a cup of coffee with your overly expensive coffee machine before catching the subway to work. You spend your day editing the works of up and coming writers, crossing out a line here and there and you swear, all the stories are the same. You leave work at exactly five pm and catch the five fifteen subway home, where your boyfriend, Larry, will be waiting for you in his sweater and slacks with those awful brown loafers. He'll ask you about your day and you'll give the same reply as you did the day before and he'll order Chinese food and then you'll go to bed to have boring missionary sex.

And then you stare at the black ceiling and imagine another life for yourself, until the sun begins to rise and you start all over again.

At least, that's how life went, until you met Alex Vause.

/

Being an editor for a large publishing company, you get to travel quite a bit. You fly around the country to meet with writers and you get to go to book readings and conferences that you don't care about. You stay in surprisingly shitty hotels, despite the fact that you work for a multimillion dollar company, with questionably stained sheets and bathrooms covered with fungus. One week you'll be on a flight to Detroit for a conference and the next you'll be on your way to New Mexico to meet a new sci fi writer, as if there aren't enough already. Despite your slowly declining view on life, you enjoy meeting new people and you find that you make friends in the strangest of places, like on the forty five minute aeroplane ride that you take to Boston, in a plane that is the size of a matchbox. You spend the time chatting amiably to a woman named Lorna, who screams like a banshee at every slight bit of turbulence.

It's on a flight back home to New York that you find yourself seated next to a woman a few years older than you, with jet black hair tipped with electric blue dye. She's wearing a pair of black secretary glasses that make her look unbelievably sexy and her eyes are the most interesting shade of green that you've ever seen. She stands up when you shuffle past her, into your window seat, towering over you and looking a little bit intimidating in her thick black leather jacket and her knee high combat boots, but her smile is friendly, if a little bit condescending as she eyes your black work pants and tight white blouse.

"Hi," you say softly as the stewardesses begin to point to the safety exits, one of which is right beside you.

"Hey," she responds with a surprisingly husky voice, a small smirk tilting her ruby red lips. "I hope you're stronger than you look, Laura Ingalls Wilder."

"It's Piper," you respond automatically, even as your brows furrow in confusion. "And why is that?"

She points to the safety exit at your side and you hum in agreement as you study the thick steel handle, which you can't possibly imagine being able to open, even with a body pumping with adrenalin.

"Yeah, no chance," you murmur, glancing back at the woman beside you. "Wanna switch? You'd have better luck than I would, I bet."

"No thanks," she responds as she leans back in her chair. "I don't want to have the entire plane depending on me should our engines fail when we're forty thousand feet in the air."

"Wow," you can't help but laugh. "Thanks for that extra weight on my shoulders."

"Do some reps with it," she advises you with a serious expression. "Then maybe you'll be able to open that door and save us all from a horrible, fiery death."

"You are dark," your mutter as the seat belt light comes on. You buckle yourself in before pulling your iPod from your pocket. You're about to play a song when your companion speaks again.

"What's with the get up?" She asks, pointing to your clothes. "You a lawyer or something?"

"No, definitely not a lawyer," you respond absentmindedly, thinking your parents would have probably approved of that profession, unlike they did with your actual job. "I work for a publishing company."

"Yeah?" She probes, her smile becoming a bit more genuine, a bit more interested. "Ever publish anyone that I would know of?"

"Maybe," you respond with a forced smile, scrolling through the songs on your iPod. "Probably not recently though, since our CEO is currently going through a new phase and will only accept self-help books, and you don't look like the type of person to read that shit."

"God, no," she answers with an amused snort. "I only know one thing about self-help and it's all about my right hand."

The dark haired woman raises her hand for your inspection, wriggling her long, slim fingers as she raises her eyebrow suggestively and you can't help but laugh. She smirks at you, leaning back in her seat as the plane begins to take off, with her left foot holding a black briefcase in place beneath the seat in front of her. You're both quiet for most of the flight; you with your headphones in and her quietly drinking a few glasses of scotch until the stewardess cuts her off. You smile as she grumbles in complaint, until she catches your eye and gives you a mock glare.

"Shut up, fancy pants," she says, wriggling in her seat to get more comfortable. "I've had a long fucking day and all I want to do is wind down with a few drinks, but this pencil skirt bitch isn't allowing it."

"It's a one hour flight and you've already had three, so, I'm not really surprised." You can't help but chuckle at her over exaggerated pout. "And fancy pants? Seriously?"

"I do admit that my language skills begin to evaporate after a few drinks," she responds with a shrug before eyeing my get up critically. "But, I mean, yeah, look at you. You look like you just stepped out of a magazine. Those clothes can't be comfortable."

"I'll have you know that they are," you reply, whilst thinking, _liar, liar. _"Who are you, anyway? I never even got your name."

"My name's Alex," she says almost absentmindedly, as the pilot's voice comes through the speakers, preparing the passengers for landing.

"Alex." You repeat her name, thinking that it suits her. "And what do you do, Alex? Besides from make fun of strangers at forty thousand feet?"

"I'm an importer," she says, glancing down the aisle at the stewardesses who are now sitting down, waiting for the plane to land. "I import almost anything, from art to animals. Not conventional, but it pays well, though it can be stressful at times."

"Oh?" Is all you manage to say, unable to think of anything else.

"Yeah," she responds with a casual shrug. "For instance, I'm doing this job right now for an international drug cartel and I have about ten kilograms of heroin in this briefcase and another thirty in my suitcase. It's stressful, but kind of a thrill, you know?"

She turns her head to look at you then, smirking at your open mouthed expression as you stare at her, completely at a loss for words. She winks as the plane's wheels hit the tarmac, putting her finger against her lips as she lowers her voice.

"Sh, don't tell."

/

You get off the plane, grab your baggage and take a cab back to your apartment. It's almost ten o'clock and you're completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than to go home, get into your pyjama's and sleep until you start work again on Monday. You pay the taxi driver and climb the seven flights of stairs to the apartment that you share with your boyfriend, fumbling with your keys as you attempt to unlock the front door. After a few minutes of struggling, you finally manage to open the door and step into your picture perfect apartment, immediately looking around for your boyfriend who is usually slouching on the couch or rooting in the refrigerator at this time of night, but he's nowhere to be seen.

You shrug your shoulders, figuring that he's out with Pete, as you drag your suitcase towards the bedroom, and that's when you hear it. Soft female moans are emanating from the room where you sleep and you can't help but roll your eyes with disgust, since this isn't the first time that you've returned home to find your boyfriend watching porn on his laptop. You've been gone for three days, so you assume that Larry is just getting some release, or trying out that new fad called edging and you don't really want to interrupt, but god, you're tired.

So, imagine your surprise when you open the bedroom door and instead find your boyfriend having boring missionary sex with your best friend, Polly.

It's Polly who notices you first, which isn't surprising, since she looks almost bored, while Larry is way too into it and you're still frozen in the doorway. She screams in horror, which Larry takes for pleasure, increasing the speed of his thrusts and it's almost enough to make you throw up right on the spot.

"What. The. _Fuck." _Is all you can say, finally managing to catch Larry's attention after Polly pushes his slightly chunky, sweaty body off of her. His brown eyes widen almost comically at your appearance and he quickly rushes to cover himself and Polly with the sheet; the white Egyptian cotton sheet that you brought together, less than a week ago.

"Shit, Piper, Wh- What are you doing here?" Larry stumbles over his words, barely paying attention to Polly who has her head covered with the sheet. "I thought you weren't meant to get back until the morning?"

"I wasn't," you reply in an emotionless voice. "But I came home early because I was tired and I wanted to sleep in my bed, with my new sheets, with _you._"

You're beginning to get angry, you can feel that infamous Chapman temper welling up inside of you, and god, you're so fucking tired. It's been days since you've slept and all you want to do is lay down, but that's not even a possibility now, at least not here. So, instead, you ignore Larry's spluttering and Polly's muffled apologies from beneath the sheet and you grab the handle to your suitcase and turn around. You can hear Larry beginning to follow you, but you reach the door quickly and slam it closed behind you before slumping your tired body against it.

Your reach in your pocket for your phone to call a cab, wondering where the fuck you're going to go since it's not like you can just crash at Polly's place now. But instead of feeling the coolness of your phone in your pocket, your fingers brush against what feels like a piece of paper. You pull it out and find a small business card in your hand, with the name _Alex Vause _printed on it, with the word _importer _written below.

You raise your eyebrows, wondering how the dark haired woman managed to slip the card into your pocket without you noticing. You turn it over to find a phone number written on the back, with the words, 'call me, anytime' written below it.

And so instead of dialling the number for a cab, you call Alex Vause and that singular phone call changes your life.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors Note: I was so happy to receive such a massive response for this story in less than twenty four hours, so happy that I decided to upload the second chapter much quicker than I had originally intended. I can't believe that so many people have started following this story already and I'm really grateful for all the reviews that I've gotten so far for the first chapter. It's a response like this that makes a writer want to keep writing, and I thank you all for the kind words and encouragement. (Though, I am disappointed that so many of you haven't seen the movie Fight Club. Shame on you!)_

_Also, as I warned you in the first chapter, there will be a lot of violence in this story and some (probably a lot) of you will not like it. I'm warning you again now because some of that violence is in this very chapter, though not much, so don't send me hate after reading it, because you were warned._

_Enjoy!_

**Fight Club**

**Chapter Two**

You dial Alex's number, wondering what the fuck you're doing as you bring the phone up to your ear, waiting for it to ring. You barely know this Alex person; she's just a woman that you sat next to for one short plane ride. She's also a woman who apparently imports heroin on occasion for international drug cartels, and who sneakily puts business cards in your pocket, so why the fuck are you calling her? You don't get much time to think about it, because barely get half way through the first ring, the line is picked up, surprising you because it's almost eleven thirty at night and you really didn't expect her to answer, at least, not so quickly.

"Alex Vause." The husky voice that you remember from the plane is tainted with static, but still sounds ridiculously sexy. You pause at that thought, wondering when the fuck you ever thought Alex's voice was sexy, but you're pulled from the questions in your mind when Alex prompts a response. "Hello? Hello? God, is this Cara? Look, I told you-"

"It's not Cara," you finally manage to respond. "It's Piper."

"Piper?" Alex's voice sounds thoroughly confused as she repeats your name, but it's barely a second before she recovers. "Oh, fancy pants, right. What can I do for you, Pipes?"

"I don't know, actually," you answer, frowning as you glance down at the suitcase by your side. "I'm not entirely sure why I'm calling you."

"Okay," Alex says slowly, dragging the word out, which is laced heavily with confusion. "Well, do you want to go for a drink or something? Maybe you'll figure out why you called with some alcohol in your system."

"It's almost midnight." You say, stupidly, feeling like an idiot when you hear Alex snort with amusement.

"So?" Alex chuckles through the line. "Live a little, miss pant suit. There's a really cool place not far from where I live. Meet me there? I'll text you the address."

You find yourself nodding, even though Alex can't see you, and the line goes dead barely a second later, before you even have a chance to reply. You phone almost immediately lights up with a text message from an unknown number, with the address of what you assume is a bar called Red's. You have no idea what the fuck you're doing, but it's not like you have too many options right now, so you decide to meet Alex for a drink. You pull you suitcase down the stairs and call a cab, which takes you to the other side of town and you end up finding yourself outside of a bar which doesn't look as cool as Alex made it out to seem.

It's a bit run down, but the inside is comfortable and spotless, with freshly mopped floors and clean tables, covered in coasters. It's dimly lit and there aren't many people inside, and you make out Alex almost immediately, sitting in a booth with a pint of beer. You head over to her table, pulling your luggage behind you and you can't help but smile when Alex notices you, her face lighting up with a grin.

"What the fuck is that?" She asks almost immediately, pointing at your suitcase, before you've even had a chance to sit down. "Did you even go home? Or have you just been hanging around the airport, waiting to call me because you can't get the thought of my very talented hands out of your head?"

"Shut up," you respond tiredly, slumping down into the seat across from the dark haired woman. "You won't even believe what I've been through in the past few hours."

Alex looks genuinely concerned at your dejected expression and you smile slightly when she pushes her beer towards you without another word, nodding your head in thanks as you take a sip. Alex raises her hand to the bartender for another beer, her eyes never leaving you as she commands. "Spill."

And so you tell her about Larry and Polly, watching as her expression changes from one of concern to surprise, which evolves quickly into disgust and then finally, anger, all in a short amount of time. You don't know why you are spilling your heart out to this complete stranger, but Alex has a way of making you feel comfortable and the words just pour out of you as she watches you with a sympathetic expression. She shakes her head when you finally finish, taking a large gulp of her beer before fixing you with a serious look. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him," you agree with a mixture of anger and sadness. "And fuck her, too."

"Fuck them all," Alex declares with a heavy sigh, her green eyes watching you intently from behind her thick rimmed glasses. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," you answer, leaning back in your seat as you contemplate your choices. "I mean, I guess I have to find a hotel and then start looking for a new place, right? I mean, I don't think I could go back there, even if I wanted to."

You trail off, wondering what the fuck you're going to do as you swirl the last bit of beer around in your glass. You're surprised when Alex scoffs quietly in disbelief, glancing up to find her watching you with an expression of both amusement and exasperation.

"Seriously, Pipes?" She asks, raising her perfectly sculpted eyebrow as she crosses her toned arms over her chest. "Just fucking ask already."

"Ask what?" You question, your brows furrowed deeply.

"Ask if you can stay with me," Alex says bluntly, fixing you with a frustrated stare. "Ask so that I can say yes, and then maybe we can grab a few shots before heading home."

"W-what?" You splutter, shaking your head in disbelief. "Wh- I wasn't even- I wasn't going to ask if I could stay with you!"

"Then why did you call?" Alex pressed, her eyes intense as she watched you, making you feel more than a little uncomfortable.

"I- I don't know," you responded uneasily. "I mean, I just thought- wait, did you say yes?"

"Well, me saying yes kind of depends on whether or not you're going to ask me a certain question, so…" Alex trailed off, resting her chin on her fist as she watched you patiently. You had no idea what the fuck you were doing, but suddenly, the words were coming out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

"Well, could I stay with you then?" You asked hesitantly, feeling relieved when Alex's lips parted in a smile. "I mean, just until I find my own place, of course."

"Of course," Alex nodded slowly, her words slightly mocking, before she suddenly slammed her palms down on the table, causing you to jump in surprise. "Well, now that this is settled, let's get something a little stronger, yeah?"

All you could do was nod, watching as Alex stood up from the table, her hips swaying seductively as she walked towards the bar and began to order what sounded like tequila shots. You shook your head as you watched the bartender put six shot glasses down on a tray, filling them to the brim with the yellow liquid, silently wondering what the fuck you had just gotten yourself into.

/

You're drunk.

You're so fucking drunk and you're pretty sure that you've never been this intoxicated before in your life. You're stumbling down a dark, deserted street, with flickering lampposts and old factories with a complete stranger walking beside you and it should have been terrifying but it wasn't, because you were _so damn drunk_. It also helps that your companion is currently less intimidating in all her black leather, combat booted glory because she is also very, very drunk. You're also starting to find that Alex is very funny and smart and a very good listener, because she's been listening to you ramble during the entire walk back to her house and she hasn't complained even once.

"I mean, seriously," you say, slurring your words so badly that what you're saying would be barely understandable to anyone who wasn't also drunk. "Who does that? I mean, who the fuck sleeps with their girlfriend's best friend? Polly is okay looking, but I'm a fucking catch! Larry doesn't even work, he just writes his boring stories and tries to get me to publish them, but they're so bad that I can't even take them to my boss! They're _so _bad."

Alex chuckles at your drunken ranting, nodding her head in agreement as she swings around a lamppost. "You're totally a catch, Pipes. Even with the pants suits, you're totally hot."

"Right?" You agree, nodding your head, not even noticing your companion who is currently eyeing your body in said pant suit. "I mean, I make good money and I pay for fucking everything and I go to the gym almost five times a week. It's not easy to maintain a body like this, you know? It's a lot of hard work."

"I bet," Alex murmurs, raising her eyebrow seductively as she looks at you, which you finally notice. You giggle, less nervously than you would have had you been sober, shaking your head at your friend's suggestive tone.

"Shut up," you laugh, finally taking a second to look around the street. "Where the fuck are we, by the way? Did you get us lost?"

"No," Alex responds before pointing towards the end of the street, which was barely visible due to the lack of light. "I live down there."

"Where?" You snort. "In a box? I don't think that there will be enough room for the two of us, Al."

"God, you're so judgemental," Alex replies with an exaggerated huff. "Were you like this with Barry?"

"Fuck you!" You respond loudly, feeling a sudden surge of anger at Alex's dig, clenching your hand tightly around the handle to your suitcase. Small spurts of anger are not uncommon in your life recently and you assume it's because of the lack of sleep, rather than some deep seated issue that is buried somewhere beneath your skin.

"Woah, so much anger, Pipes," Alex laughs, though not unkindly. "What do you do with it all? Beat it out on a punching bag during your little gym sessions?"

"Sometimes," you finally manage to respond, once you tamper down on your anger. "Hitting things makes me feel good. It's therapeutic."

You walk in silence for a few minutes, glancing occasionally at Alex who has a thoughtful expression on her beautiful face. You take the quiet time to study her and you find yourself envious of the way she holds her head so tall, walking with an air of casual confidence that you've never had. She's also beautiful in a completely effortless way, with her windblown dark hair and full, red lips, which you can't help but stare at as she wets them with her tongue. Alex is kind of everything that you're not; she's laid back and completely at ease with herself and you find yourself sudden craving for a bit of her confidence, for a bit of her 'fuck the world' attitude.

Sometimes you wish you didn't care so much.

You almost stumble on the footpath when the raven haired woman suddenly stops, pausing in the middle of the street and watching you curiously from beneath a flickering lamp. There's a flicker of something that you don't recognise in her green eyes, something a bit scary that sends a shiver down your spine, causing you to fidget on the spot as you return her gaze.

"What?" You ask her nervously, feeling slightly uneasy from the strange expression on the other woman's face. "Alex?"

"Hit me," Alex replies suddenly, completely out of the blue and you almost laugh because of course she had to be kidding, right? Complete strangers don't just ask other people to hit them for no reason, especially not women. But your laughter dies in your throat at the serious expression on your companion's face, as the woman continues to stare at you patiently.

"_What?" _

"Hit me," Alex repeats nonchalantly, shrugging off her leather jacket and letting it drop to the floor before beginning to bounce up and down on the spot. "I'm fucking serious, Piper. Hit me in the face."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask shrilly, your blue eyes practically popping out of your skull as you stare at the older woman in disbelief. "Why the fuck would I hit you?"

"I don't know; because you're angry at Larry and because it's therapeutic?" Alex says, shrugging her shoulders as she motions for you to come closer. "So, come on, hit me in the face. I've never been punched before, it'll probably be a good life experience."

"Alex, I'm not going to hit you!" You are practically shouting now, your voice echoing off the deserted buildings that surround you. "Come on, let's just go home."

"Oh, come on, Piper!" Alex finally says, her voice bordering on frustration as she drops her arms to her sides. "For once in your life, stop being so conventional, would you? I bet you've never done anything bad before; I bet you were a daddy's girl, right? I bet you've never even skipped a class at school or done anything to get into trouble. Fuck, you're so _boring_, no wonder Larry cheated on you."

Whatever Alex was going to say next was lost, drowned out by the resounding slap as the palm of your hand met her smooth cheek, snapping her head to the side. Your eyes widen almost immediately in horror at what you have just done, since you have never been violent before, especially not with another person. It had all happened so fast, the sudden anger which had overwhelmed you at Alex's words, which had then dissipated almost immediately the second that your hand hit her face.

"Oh my god!" You cry, reaching for the dark haired woman with concern as she raised her hand to touch her lip, her green eyes wide behind her glasses. "Oh my god, Alex! I'm so fucking sorry. I can't believe I did that!"

"What the hell?" Alex mutters, rubbing her mouth as she looks up at you with wide, surprised eyes. "I told you to punch me in the face, not smack me in the mouth!"

"I'm sorry!" You apologize again, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. "I can't belie-"

Your words are unexpectedly cut off as a hand connects sharply with the side of your face, causing your head to spin. The pain is so abrupt, it takes a moment for your instincts to kick in and then your fist is flying blindly towards Alex, connecting painfully with the side of her head.

"Ow!" The dark haired woman cries, hopping a few feet away from you as she rubs her now bright red ear. "Jesus Christ! Fuck, Piper!"

"What the fuck, Alex?" You yell with a mixture of anger and confusion, rubbing your sore cheek where the other woman had slapped you only moments before. "I said I was sorry!"

"I know. Fuck!" Alex shook her head, attempting to clear the stars from her vision before looking up at you with watery eyes. "But it was fair, right? A slap for a slap?"

And then suddenly, unbelievably, the dark haired woman is laughing and it takes a moment, but then you are laughing too, though you have no idea why. You both stand there in the middle of the road, chortling like madwomen as you gaze at each other, until Alex eventually calms down enough to speak.

"It feel good though, right?" She asks, her green eyes sparkling knowingly and you are surprised to find that you actually feel much better than you had a few minutes ago, lighter even. It feels as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders and you can't help but crack a smile as you stare back at the other woman in awe.

"Yeah," you murmur thoughtfully, but your eyes widen when the dark haired woman starts stalking towards you like a panther. "Alex? What is it? Oh God, Alex, come on!"

"A slap for a slap," the dark haired woman says, grinning wickedly. "And a punch for a punch, right?"

"Oh, fuck," is all you manage to say, before Alex tackles you to the ground, quite painfully, and then you are scrapping like boys in high school and fuck, it actually felt pretty good.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Authors Note: I apologize in advance for all and any spelling errors/grammatical errors and mistakes in this chapter. It was written very quickly and I didn't have any time to read through it and correct everything properly. I hope it's not too bad. **_

_**Also, I won't be able to update for a week or so, due to my very busy work schedule, but be happy with the knowledge that things will really start happening in the next chapter. Excitingggg.**_

**Fight Club**

**Chapter Three**

Bruised, tired and a little bit less drunk than you were an hour ago, you finally stop walking when Alex pauses in front a gate outside of a large deserted warehouse. You watch with confusion and a little bit of worry as Alex fumbles with the many keys on her chain before finding the right one and unlocking the padlocked gate. Without a word, she pushes the gate open and begins limping down the short path to the warehouse's door, where she pauses and finally notices that you are not following her. "Piper? You coming?"

"You live here?" You ask incredulously as you reluctantly follow the dark haired woman towards the door, which she opens once you are standing behind her.

"Yeah, I've been here for a few years," she shrugs, walking into the pitch black warehouse without a backward glance. You follow her quickly, grabbing on to the back of her leather jacket as she guides you through the darkness, until you reach a metal staircase. With much trepidation, you follow the raven haired woman up three flights of stairs before stopping in front of a large, steel sliding door, which Alex promptly slides open with a grunt, revealing another pitch black room. After a few moments of fumbling, Alex finally finds the light switch and flicks it on and what you see before you is not what you had expected at all.

You honestly didn't know what the fuck you were expecting, but since you were in an old, run down warehouse, you were half expecting old, dust covered furniture and junk everywhere. You were imagining a room with dull coloured walls, dirty windows and horrible plumbing, but that is not what you find at all. The room before you is a sort of open planned living room, and it is enormous, with polished cement floors, large spotless windows, and walls lined with bookshelves. There was a black marble kitchen counter in the far corner of the room, with metallic appliances and a massive fridge and a big leather couch with a soft looking blanket thrown over the back. There was also several more doorways, which Alex was pointing to as she dropped her jacket on top of the large glass dining table.

"That's the bathroom over there," Alex says as she points at the door down the hallway, by the kitchen, before pointing towards the two other doors that were just off of the main room. "That's my bedroom there, where I spend most of my time and that other door is the guest room, where you'll be staying."

You can only stare in awe as Alex kicks off her shoes, pulling a packet of cigarettes from her back pocket and lighting up. She offers you the open packet and you shake your head absentmindedly, gazing at the floor to ceiling bookshelves, filled to the brim with books, with a look of complete wonder. You've never seen this many books in one place, outside of a library.

"Oh my fucking god," you whisper quietly to yourself as you run your fingers lovingly down the spine of one of the books. "This is crazy. There must be thousands of books here."

"Not too bad, huh?" Alex chuckles from her place in the kitchen, where she was sipping from a cup of water. "I've been collecting books for years. This is just a small part of my collection."

"It's amazing," you murmur in a voice filled with respect, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch with one of the many books; and you might have done just that, if not for the yawn that stretched your mouth open wide. Alex, ever observant, notices from the other side of the room and smiles softly.

"You should probably get some sleep, kid. It's been a long day for you," Alex says softly, tapping the end of her cigarette into the sink. "You can put your stuff anywhere you want. The bed is made up with fresh sheets and the fridge is stocked if you want to make breakfast in the morning. I sleep late though, so try not to make too much noise."

"Of course," you say, giving your hostess a grateful smile. "Thanks for this, Alex, really. You kind of saved my life tonight."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," the dark haired woman chuckles. "Consider us even now. You could have ratted me out when the plane landed, but you didn't, so, this is my thank you."

You pause for a moment, tilting your head as you gazed questioningly at the dark haired woman, having forgotten briefly about your conversation with Alex on the plane. "So… did you really have heroin in your suitcase, then?"

Alex's response is a loud bark of laughter and a wink, before she slips into her bedroom and closes the door behind her. "See you tomorrow, Pipes."

/

You wake up in the morning and stretch your arms above your head, feeling surprisingly well rested, despite the headache that is pounding against your temple. It takes a few moments of staring at the sunlit ceiling before you remember the details of last night, just as your body begins to moan as the aches and pains begin settle in, from your brief tumble with Alex. You still can't believe that it happened; that you and Alex quite literally got into a fist fight for absolutely no reason, other than to blow off steam. It had been so strange; two women fighting in the middle of the street, beating each other bloody, but you couldn't deny how good it felt and it did feel _good. _

Lost in your thoughts, you run your fingers through your long blonde hair as you sit up in the large canopied bed and that's when you realize the most amazing fact of all.

You slept.

You slept last night, uninterrupted sleep with REM and everything; you can still even remember the glimpses of a dream that you had, of sitting in a shady looking club with a group of people you didn't know. You don't think much else of it, because you are so damn fucking surprised that you actually slept that you can barely even think straight. God, it has been _so long_. You're used to getting a few minutes of sleep at a time, tiny cat naps that keep you going, and it feels so fucking good to actually have some energy for once.

With a smile plastered on your lips, you push yourself out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, where you strip off your clothes before jumping in the shower. You spend more than thirty minutes just soaking beneath the hot spray before washing yourself and climbing out of the shower. With a towel wrapped around your waist, you dig through your suitcase until you find suitable clothes before you decide to make breakfast, since your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you woke up.

It's almost twelve thirty and you're half way through a plate loaded with bacon and eggs when Alex finally makes an appearance from her bedroom, dressed in only a thin, silky black robe that leaves little to the imagination. You can't help but glance at her legs as she walks by, heading towards the coffee machine, with the muscles rippling in her thighs.

"Ah, coffee is always better when you don't have to make it yourself," the raven haired woman finally says from her place in the kitchen, after taking a sip of the steaming black liquid in her mug. "I think I could get used to this, Pipes."

"Don't," you laugh softly, holding up yesterday's paper that you found on the kitchen counter. "I've already started looking for new apartments. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I can."

"What's the rush?" Alex asks, as she sits down beside you at the sleek glass dining table, giving you a great view of her creamy soft legs as the material of her robe rides up her thighs. "I'm barely ever here anyway. Ooh, nice cut you got there, by the way."

You immediately raise your hand to touch your split lip, fingering the cut that you had noticed while looking in the mirror earlier. You also had some pretty nasty bruises to add to your collection, and your knuckles were scraped raw. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself, Al."

"Oh, you mean my battle wounds?" Alex laughs, pulling off her glasses to display her black eye proudly. "You have a wicked right hook, my friend. You definitely got something out of those gym sessions, other than your rock hard abs, I mean."

"Shut up," you chuckle, pushing her shoulder gently. "You gave as good as you got. How do you feel this morning, by the way? I know that your knee was bothering you, after you slammed it on the sidewalk when you tackled me."

The dark haired woman stretched briefly, rocking her head from side to side as she took stock of her injuries before shrugging her shoulders with a lazy grin. "I actually feel pretty fucking good. I mean, despite the bruises, I feel as if I've been at the spa all day, you know?"

You nod because you did indeed know, since you feel as if all the tension has been drained from your body, leaving you feeling happy and relaxed. You can't remember the last time that you felt this good, both mentally and physically and it makes no fucking sense, but you aren't about to start questioning it.

"We should make last night a regular thing," Alex continues with a laugh, rolling her shoulders before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Which part?" You ask with a smile. "The drinking part or the beating each other up part?"

"Both." Alex grins with a twinkle in her green eyes. "Though, you might have to start stocking up on concealer, or the people at your work are going to start spreading rumours about your 'abusive boyfriend'."

You join Alex in her laughter, shaking your head at the truth in her words about your gossiping co-workers, forgetting all about the newspaper in front of you, opened in the apartments for rent section.

/

You end up at the bar again, after Alex finally tempts you away from her bookshelves with the promise of tequila. It's late and you've had a bit to drink, but you don't care because you still have another day off before you're due back at work. You're on your sixth or seventh glass, attempting and failing to match your companion drink for drink, but she outpaces you easily, downing her ninth glass of scotch before continuing to talk to the girl who had walked up to your table a few minutes ago. She's a pretty girl, young, with short blonde hair and you can tell easily that she is quite entranced with Alex, after only spending five minutes with the dark haired woman. You had found out last night that Alex batted for the other team and while it was amusing to watch Alex charm this poor girl, you are beginning to feel restless.

Your knee is bouncing beneath the table as you glance around the bar, noticing that it is much busier tonight. There are scores of women crowding the bar, talking and laughing, with a few men mingling throughout the room and you wonder briefly if you should go find someone to talk to, since you feel like you're cramping Alex's style.

You're about to get up and go order another drink when Alex catches your attention, gesturing for you to follow her outside. You stand up silently, giving the girl Alex had been talking to a polite smile before the dark haired woman led you out of the bar and into the cool night air. You walk with her into the parking lot, watching her as she lights up a cigarette and takes a drag before exhaling the smoke on a heavy sigh.

"She seemed nice," you offer, pointing vaguely back towards the bar, earning a disbelieving snort from your companion. "What? You didn't like her?"

"She was an idiot," Alex chuckles in response, causing you to smile and shake your head. "I was waiting for you to give me an out, hoping that you would pick up my distress, but you never did. You are a horrible wing woman, Piper Chapman."

"What was I mean to do?" You ask with a hint of disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air. "She seemed okay and you were smiling. I thought that you were having a good time!"

"That was my 'someone, please shoot me in the face right now' smile." Alex deadpanned, taking another drag of her cigarette. "If I ever make that smile at you, kill me, because chances are, I'm wishing that I was dead."

"Okay, well, I'll keep that in mind for next time." You murmur with a smirk, catching Alex's gaze which only causes your smile to widen. You watch as she drops her cigarette on the ground before stepping on it with the heel of her boot and then before you know it, you're flat on your back, looking up at Alex with wide blue eyes, pressing your hand against your chest as you attempt to catch your breath which was so suddenly and unexpectedly exhaled from your lungs.

Alex is grinning down at you, clenching and unclenching the hand which she had just rammed into your chest, and instead of yelling or losing your temper, you smile.

You grunt as you kick out your legs, managing to kick Alex right in the stomach, causing her to fly backwards into a car. She laughs breathlessly as she keels over, holding her stomach with one hand as she attempts to breathe in a lung full of air, but you don't allow it. You push yourself to your feet quickly before slamming your elbow down in between Alex's shoulder blades and then it's Alex on the floor, rolling onto her back to look up at you. You're both smiling and this is fucking crazy, but a part of you had been almost hoping for this all night and you grin as Alex jumps to her feet and throws her much larger body against yours, pinning you to the car behind you.

Alex has just given you a mean uppercut, smashing her fist against your chin and sending your head snapping backwards, when the door to the bar opens and a group of women crowd out. They stare at you in shocked silence, their jaws practically grazing the floor as Alex throws her arm around your shoulders, giving them a small wave.

"What the fuck?" One of them asks as they rush towards you, a woman that you recognize as one of the bartenders, with a blonde mane of hair that she pushes impatiently away from her face as she leans forward to expect your face. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just a friendly fight between friends," Alex answers for you, since your mouth is full of blood and all you can do is nod in agreement as you wrap your arm around her waist for support.

"Are you serious?" Another woman asks, small and pretty, with big dark eyes and shoulder length dark curls. "You're fighting… for fun?"

"Pretty much," Alex says casually, with a flicker of something in her green eyes. A smirk plays her ruby red lips as she stares confidently back at the women that surround you, studying them critically before she asks-

"Do you ladies want to play?"

And that's it all begins.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fight Club**

**Chapter Four**

On Monday, you fly to California for an interview, hiding your black eye behind a pair of aviators and sleeping through most of the two day trip. You're back on Wednesday, but only for twenty four hours before you leave again, to North Hampton this time, sporting a split lip that you hide beneath fire truck red lipstick as you attend a high profile ball in your white dress, with your bruised knuckles standing out in contrast. A few people stare at you worriedly, some even ask questions, but you repeat the lies that Alex told you on Sunday before you left.

"_I got my hands jammed in a window."_

"_Dropped my phone on my face while I was in bed, hence the split lip."_

"_I opened the pantry door into my head and got a black eye when all I wanted was some cereal."_

Your boss raises his eyebrow at your every lie, but he seems to believe you or maybe he just doesn't care and that's fine with you. You don't really want to have to explain this new hobby of yours, where your new housemate and you get into violent fights to help relieve your pent up anger. It's not exactly healthy, but you feel the best you have in years, at least mentally, and you don't plan on stopping anytime soon. You might have to invest in some concealer though, if only to stop all the questions, even if you have to listen to Alex rant again about '_cosmetic companies and their makeup, which may make your skin seem nicer, but is only really making it worse in the long run'_.

Of course, Alex still wears eyeliner every day, but eyeliner doesn't count, apparently.

But everything begins to change when you fly home, late on Friday night, when you enter Alex's warehouse apartment. There's a group of women sitting on the couch, some of whom you recognise from the bar, a week ago, and others that you don't. Alex walks out of her bedroom when you slide the door closed behind you, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Pipes, we need to talk," she says, gesturing for you to follow her into her room. You smile politely at the women as you pass them, all of whom watch you intently as you follow Alex into her bedroom, where she motions for you to sit on the bed.

"How was North Hampton?" She asks casually once the door is closed, as if there isn't a group of strangers sitting in the lounge room.

"It was good," you reply. "I got trashed at the ball and crashed back at my hotel before midnight. I don't think Luke was very impressed." You both smirk before you gesture to the closed bedroom door. "Who are all those women?"

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Alex murmurs, sitting down on the bed beside you. "I wanted to ask your opinion on something."

It was the conversation that lead to both your soul's revival and your heart's ruin.

It was the beginning of Fight Club.

/

It was Saturday night and you were back at Red's, but instead of taking your normal seats at a corner booth, you were led by a woman named Nicky, down into the basement. You followed quietly behind Alex, down a dark set of stairs until you found yourself in a large cement room, lit only by a few flickering light bulbs hanging from the roof. Alex hummed approvingly at the open space, scuffing her boot against the dusty floor and nodding her head as she gave Nicky a small grin.

"This will do," she murmurs, standing in the middle of the room as a large group of women filed in behind us. They were both young and old, beautiful and plain, and whilst some were practically bouncing with excitement, more had nervous expressions that surely matched the one on your own face. There were about twenty women in general, an even bigger group than what you had expected and you noticed Alex's frown as she mentally counted the women that stood in a semi-circle around her.

Our very first decision had been to make sure that the group stayed small, for more than one reason. The less people that knew, meant that less people could possibly find out and running an underground fighting club never really looked good on the resume. You didn't want anyone to find out about your secret hobby of sorts and neither did Alex, hence the first rule of our club.

"It seems as if someone broke the very first rule of this club," Alex says loudly to the room, as if hearing your thoughts. "Which is: You do not talk about Fight Club."

The group of women glanced around nervously as Alex sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She pursed her full lips as her eyes scanned over the women, before she spoke again. "An organisation such as this one needs rules and the first rule is, you do not talk about Fight Club. Since some of you seem to have trouble with that, I'm going to make the second rule: _you do not talk about Fight Club._"

You covered your mouth to hide your smirk, meeting Alex's eyes from your place at the edge of the group and watched as her own lips twitched in acknowledgement before she continued.

"The third rule of Fight club is: Someone yells stop, goes limp or taps out, the fight is over. Fourth rule: only two women to a fight. Fifth rule: only one fight at a time, ladies. Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: Fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule: If this is your first night at Fight Club, you _have _to fight."

You watched as a few sets of eyes in the group went wide, obviously women who thought they could just come to watch, but both you and Alex had decided that you didn't want any observers standing on the sidelines. You had started Fight Club for a reason, beginning with just two women who needed to work out a bit of frustration and anger, before you decided to share your knowledge with others who needed the same kind of therapy. This wasn't a game or entertainment; this was a place where women could come to find out something about themselves that they might not have known before. This was a place where you could let go, let that animal inside of you free to roam, without the danger of serious injury or consequences for your actions.

"If you don't want to fight, then I suggest you leave now," Alex continues, waiting patiently as the group of women shuffled nervously. She raised her eyebrows as she continued to watch them and then finally let slip a smile when no one moved. "Good. You, with the fohawk, you're up first."

You watched silently as Alex kicked off her shoes and socks, letting her leather jacket fall to the floor before she pulled her white v-neck over her head. You couldn't help but stare at the body that was revealed underneath, all perfect breasts and toned stomach. You watched as the muscles in her back flexed beneath her pale white skin; the salt shaker tattoo on her shoulder moving as she stretched.

It wasn't the first time that you had noticed how beautiful your new house mate was and you knew that it wouldn't be the last, as you felt a warmth erupt in your lower abdomen at the sight of her winking at you over her opponents shoulder.

"What's your name, kid?" Alex asks the young woman standing across from her, small and dark, with large beautiful eyes and a muscular body.

"Poussey," The girl mutters in response, scowling when the name attracted a burst of muffled laughter from the crowd watching. "Accent a droite, bitches!"

"Why are you here, Poussey?" Alex continues, ignoring the women that surrounded them, keeping her eyes focused on her opponent as she relaxed into a deceptively calm stance. You wonder if anyone else notices the muscles that are beginning to twitch beneath Alex's soft skin, a sure sign that the women is about to pounce on her prey like a hungry, black panther.

Even after only a week of knowing the woman, you're beginning to read her signals, if only when it came to fighting. The rest of Alex Vause is a mystery to you.

"I'm here because I want to fight," Poussey answers, bringing her closed fists up beneath her chin and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Why else?"

Alex tilts her head as she studies the other women intently and you watch as Poussey begins to twitch nervously beneath the older woman's dissecting gaze. Alex's lips twitch into a smirk quite suddenly, her eyes landing on a woman in the crowd, curvy and beautiful, with dark eyes and full lips, whose watching Poussey nervously, with a hint of worry. Alex raises her eyebrow when Poussey follows her gaze, smirking at the younger woman when she once again returns eye contact with a scowl.

"Why else?" Alex mutters sarcastically, before she lashes out, so quick that her fist is a blur.

Alex's fist connects with Poussey's cheekbone, making a loud smacking sound of flesh hitting flesh, which is drowned out by shocked gasps from the crowd. You hide your grin behind your fist, watching intently as Poussey rocks back on the heels of her feet, her hand reaching for her face in shock.

The most interesting part of hitting someone, Alex said, is seeing how they will react to it. You can figure a person out on the way they react in a fight.

You can tell the moment that Poussey looks up into Alex's eyes why she's really here and it's for the same reason that you are. She's angry, she's really fucking angry; at the world and at herself. And she proves that when she suddenly goes on the offensive, throwing wild angry blows at Alex, who defends herself against them with her forearms. You figure out quickly that this fight won't last long, as Alex dodges Poussey's hard and fast blows, all aimed for her head. Poussey is so angry that she can barely see straight and you know Alex well enough now to know that she will definitely take advantage of this.

And she does so, after sliding beneath a right hook, she slams her fist into Poussey's abdomen, knocking the air out of her lungs and bending the younger girl over at the waist. Alex's knee comes up sharply into Poussey's face, throwing her onto her back and causing blood to stream from her nose as she grunts in pain. You watch the smaller woman curiously, smiling along with Alex when she slowly pushes herself up from the floor, her mind clearer than it had been a few minutes ago.

Her punches are less wild now, more thought out as she looks for weaknesses in Alex's defences, managing to aim a quick jab at Alex's jaw which snaps the older woman's head to the side. But Alex is taller and heavier and it's not long before she tires of their circling and goes on the offensive again, hitting Poussey in the side of the head so hard that the women lands on the hard floor, a few metres away.

Poussey taps her hand weakly on the floor, surrendering, before taking the hand that Alex offers her and pulling herself to her feet.

There's blood dripping liberally from the smaller woman's mouth and nose, but she's smiling and it's a beautiful smile as Alex laughs and pats her on the back.

"You two," Alex says, pointing to two women in the crowd, Nicky and a young girl with pale blonde cornrows. "You're up."

/

It's almost midnight when the fighting ends, with the cement floor slick with blood as the group of women make their way back up at the stairs, chattering excitedly. You wave goodbye to Nicky, whose staying behind to clean the place up, before you follow Alex back up the stairs and into the empty bar. It's cold when you push open the door to the parking lot, and it soothes the burn of your reopened lip, courtesy of a large woman named Big Boo.

"So?" Alex asks quietly as you walked through the carpark. "What did you think?"

You take a moment to think about it before a small smile begins to tug at the corner of your lips. "It was good."

"Just good?" Alex questions, with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised high. "It was fucking awesome. Your fight with Boo was pretty excellent, too."

"Yeah, except she has a good hundred pounds on me," you sigh, rubbing your aching jaw. "All that extra weight behind her punches."

"True, but it also made her slow," Alex comments. "Which helped you eventually kick her ass. You did good tonight, kid. I was damn proud of you."

You felt a giddy grin stretch your split lips, even as a blush tinted your cheeks, causing you to turn your head away at the compliment. Alex barked a laugh at your reaction, the rich sound echoing in the deserted street that led to the warehouse where you both lived.

"Come on," Alex says, still chuckling, as she threw her arm over your shoulders, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. "I hear a hot bath calling your name and a couple of beers calling mine."

You think of the hot water awaiting you and know that it will feel heavenly soothing your aching muscles, but you also know that it couldn't feel better than this moment, walking with Alex's arm around your shoulders and her pride in you sitting like a warm ball of light in your chest.


End file.
